Two Blonde Braids and a Tournament
by angels weep before they fly
Summary: Or, A True and Unbiased Personal History of the Formation and Structure of Team Maraqua and Other Related Events, by Elon Hughlis (who still doesn't understand why he was the one chosen to captain the team).


Hello! This was inspired by many headcanon discussions on the WAM board, especially by Rooke, Rin, and Jessy, to whom this piece is dedicated to. I don't know when it's going to be updated, as I'm really kinda busy at the moment, but know that I've got a whole world in my head just for this fic.

Thanks for reading, and review if you liked it! (bonus points for guessing why I chose the jersey number I did- you'll get it soon enough.)

(Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognise.)

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_**Prologue, or, How my childhood hero retired.**_

When people ask me about the formation of the Altador Cup as a worldwide competition, they expect a story riddled with goals scored, with amazing shots made with Darigan Yooyus seconds before a match was going to end. They're wrong. Sure, there were countless practise sessions, breakdowns, fights and everything the official history records, but for me, Team Maraqua began in a different way.

I first met Dorina Hals when I was twelve. Her father was giving a retirement speech, and I was hanging off his every word. He played for Teal, which wasn't as bad as United, but automatically meant that I shouldn't like him. His pure talent and status as the best Right Forward in the League, even at 34, made me love him despite the team he played for. As a kid, Kieren Hals was all I ever wanted to be (minus, of course, the fact that he played for Teal). _Every_ kid in Maraqua wanted to be him. I remember the overcrowded stadium, the quiet that fell as Kieren Hals was speaking. I remember my best friend, Barit, even then a tall, skinny kid, quivering with excitement. We were kids, waiting until the speech was over, and everything died down so that we could accompany Barit's mum into an interview with _the_ Kieren Hals. I was never as happy that Barit was my friend, and that his mum was a leading MYL journalist as I was in that moment.

I never got to meet Kieren Hals that day, but I did meet his daughter. Even though it was a restricted entry event, there were still crowds flooding the room, trying to get to the man of the moment for the last time. So I hung back, waiting for the Jowes family to come back- not even a Yooyuball legend could get me to go through a crowd that big, that compressing. When the little girl with dark blonde hair in two braids sat down against the wall next to me, I almost didn't notice. She looked younger than nine- perhaps it was the braids, perhaps the too-big Teal jersey that ended past her hands, stained with sand and silt from the ocean floor. The black mark on one sleeve marked it as real- a mark of a Clockwork Yooyu exploding too close to the player that had once worn it.

"Where'd _you_ get that?"

"Lotsa' people". We'd spoken at the same time, her head gesturing towards the crowd milling about the room. I didn't quite know how to respond. I was of that age where I thought that even being _near_ someone younger was embarrassing, and I didn't know, or want to know, how to look after her. But she'd heard my question, and when she turned her back to me to show me the number 15 and the name 'HALS' on the back, she didn't seem so uncool anymore. Because this little kid had managed to get a real, match-worn Kieren Hals jersey, and twelve-year-old me wanted to know how.

"It's my daddy's. He's up there, but there's a lot of people who wanna talk to him, and it's a bit scary." All I could do was nod along. This was Dorina Hals, then, the daughter of Kieren. I could see the resemblance now- the same colour hair, the same features as her father. I wanted to ask her so many questions- about her dad, about playing, about going to matches every week across Maraqua. But I didn't. Usually I would've burst with all my questions, but that day something in me made me stop. I only said a few words more to her before I left.

"You're Dorina, then." She nodded at me, and smiled. I remember seeing a gap where one of her teeth had fallen out.

"I'm Elon."


End file.
